A Love Story
by Furtively Lethargic
Summary: -"Will you still marry me? Even though I got shot four times?" he asked softly. "I . . ." Mary-Lynnette knew her voice would crack, so she nodded. But she said it anyways; "Of course I will."


_**A/N: **__HEY GUYS! This one-shot . . . is actually something real. Well, it's based on something real. I watched the TV show, "Extreme Make Over Edition" earlier and I literally cried my eyes out for the first fifteen minutes of the show. It was so, so, so, so, SO touching. I LOVE it so much. It also proves that __**love conquers all**__. *sniff* I wish _I _would find my one and true love, too. So, again, this one-shot is inspired by the newly-weds (whom I don't know personally AT ALL) and how their love conquered all the hardships during the past year . . . OH! And this one-shot is __**all human**__, capiche? Oh, and I am __**so, so, SO sorry**__ if I get so many things wrong about the army stuff. I'm still young and I don't really know how the army and their families work, so __**I am really sorry**__ if you guys read wrong descriptions._

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own Night World and the events here in this one-shot . . .

* * *

><p><strong>A Love Story<strong>

**. . .**

Fort Hood, the most populous U.S. military installation in the world.

On November 5, 2009, a mass shooting took place at Fort Hood—where Ash Redfern had been sent to from Iraq; because he was nominated to be an officer of some sort in the army. Unfortunately, thirteen people were killed and thirty-two people were injured.

Ash Redfern was one of those who were injured.

He was shot in the head—just above his right ear—and he was shot on his left shoulder, his left forearm, and the left side of his hip. All in all, he was shot four times. He was rushed to the hospital, and so were the others.

His thoughts, God he was so lucky to even _have_ thoughts when he was shot in his head, strayed around his memory of his fiancée; Mary-Lynnette Carter.

They met in Hawaii, on separate vacations. Fate led them to one another—and they were inseparable ever since. They were _so_ inseparable. Although the longest time they've spent together were three weeks because Ash had been deployed to Iraq (again), their love bloomed.

It's as if the distance made their relationship stronger.

They wrote to one another regularly—and Ash kept every single letter Mary-Lynnette had written to him. He always reads them whenever he wants to feel home. Which is almost every time. He had already asked her to marry him. She agreed. And he decided that he was the_ happiest man alive_.

They were planning to make their wedding happen when he gets back from Iraq.

But . . . maybe fate wasn't on their side, after all.

Because on that horrible, horrible day, Mary-Lynnette got a phone call. From Ash's father.

"Mary-Lynnette," Mr. Redfern had said, his voice was distant. So, very distant. Mary-Lynnette felt her tummy churning as she turned the TV off.

"Is there something wrong?" Mary-Lynnette asked, anxiousness evident in her voice.

"Ash . . ." Mr. Redfern took in a shaky breath, "Ash. He got shot. Four times."

Mary-Lynnette could've died. Her heart was aching so badly as silent tears rolled down her eyes. Her lip trembled.

"You have to get here. _Now_. In Texas."

How could she get there so fast? She needs . . . she needs to go there. _Now_. She needs Ash. She needs him to be okay. She needs him . . . _to live_. He _has_ to live. Without him . . . she'll . . .

Mr. Redfern was already telling her the address of the hospital as her body worked without her mind. Her hand had already written down the address as she grabbed her keys and money and phone. She didn't need anything else.

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

She didn't care if she had to plead and beg to get the fastest flight. _She didn't care_. All she cared about is if Ash is alive. If he's okay. But Mr. Redfern hadn't said anything else about Ash's well-being; besides him getting shot _four times_.

_Oh God, no_, she thought, rushing out of her house. _Please no. Please, please let him live_.

In a few hours, she—and Ash's sisters (Rowan, Kestrel, and Jade)—arrived at the hospital near Fort Hood in Texas; where Ash is being treated. All of them had red, puffy eyes from crying. Kestrel was the only one who held her most of her tears when they arrived at the hospital. But Mary-Lynnette, Rowan, and Jade . . . they all cried.

Mary-Lynnette entered the silent hospital room. In where Ash is being kept and cared for. She expected him to be asleep. After all, he's _severely_ injured.

His eyes . . . his right eye was black. His head was neatly wrapped in bandages, his left arm was in a broken arm sling, his left shoulder was wrapped in bandages as well. She faintly wondered where the fourth shot is, but was also relieved that she couldn't see it—for fear of crying in front of him and making him worry.

She stepped closer to his bed and silently pulled a chair, slipping her hand in his large, pale hand. He looks . . . dead. God forbid. She sniffed and rubbed her eyes with her other hand, watching Ash and his bruised body. He's asleep. Or, at least she _thinks_ he is. He's weak now. He's nearly de. . . Mary-Lynnette repressed a gasp.

Because she didn't expect him to force his eyes open and squeeze her hand.

_He's awake_.

"Ash," Mary-Lynnette whispered, her eyes starting to sting as the back of her nose burned. She didn't trust her voice, that's why she was whispering. And she didn't want to bother his peacefulness with her voice.

His eyes slid close as he squeezed her hand again, his body giving up on forcing him to be awake.

Mary-Lynnette didn't know whether or not he was dead. She cried silently, gently placing her forehead on his right arm—the good arm—and breathing in his masculine scent. It didn't do her any good as she glanced up at Ash's face. She didn't dare touch him because she knew that his wounds are still fresh. And so were the stitches on his head and arm and shoulder. She pulled away and stared at him . . . watching him.

That same night, she found out that Ash's chances of living were . . . only _five percent_. She cried—not for her. But for Ash. Ash, her fiancé. Ash, who had been deployed to Iraq and to other dangerous places for the sake of this country. Ash, whom she had met and fell in love with that very first time they talked in Hawaii. Ash, Ash, Ash . . .

Nonetheless, even though his chances of surviving were low, she didn't give up any hope and faith. And so did he.

She stayed by his side day and night. Every day. Every day that he had been in the ICU—the Intensive Care Unit—she was there. Always supporting him. Trying to make his life more bearable—although they all know that he was going to pass away soon.

The doctor had told them that even if Ash survives, he won't be able to walk. He won't be able to use his left arm. But that didn't stop Ash from trying. He wanted to marry Mary-Lynnette and he was determined to dance with her—their first dance as newly-weds . . . _if_ they're going to be newly-weds.

The doctor also told them that Ash would never be the same. He won't be able to join the army anymore because of his injuries. Ash was bummed about that. Very, very upset. But that didn't upset him as much as not marrying Mary-Lynnette.

Sometimes, he was ready to give up.

"I'm sorry, Mare," Ash whispered as he slowly sat up, with the help of Mary-Lynnette.

"Whatever for?" Mary-Lynnette murmured, not trusting her voice again. She sat beside him, carefully.

"I'm so sorry, Mare," Ash whispered and hugged her tightly against him. "I don't think I'll be able to dance with you on our wedding."

Mary-Lynnette's eyes stung again as she kissed him softly. "Don't be. You shouldn't be sorry at all. I'm not good at dancing, anyways." She kissed him again, a few tears leaving her eyes. "I love you, Ash."

"I love you _so much_, Mare," Ash whispered. "I'm so sorry," he repeated so softly. Almost inaudible.

"It's okay, Ash. It's okay . . ."

It's as if their roles were reversed. Now, Mary-Lynnette's supporting Ash. Unlike before, Ash was supporting Mary-Lynnette.

He was a stubborn guy. And he still is. Ash Redfern pushed himself and proved the doctors wrong. He proved to them that he was able to walk. He was able to, at least, move his left arm from one space to another.

Other than his stubborn streak, he also has his persistent streak. He persisted and successfully convinced the staff and the doctors to let him have a date with Mary-Lynnette.

A date for the first time ever since this incident happened.

They were still in Texas, of course, but once Ash heals more—they could go back to Oregon. To Briar Creek. Their home.

Mary-Lynnette was surprised. She was surprised that Ash had convinced the staff of the hospital to let him take her to dinner. She also thought that the main surprise was that Ash is able to walk. A bit wobbly—but _he could walk_!

Although that's not the main surprise and reason Ash brought her here for.

He grasped her hand, intertwining their fingers as he looked into her eyes. "Mary-Lynnette?"

"I'm so proud of you, Ash," Mary-Lynnette said, her eyes watery again as she smiled proudly at Ash.

He smiled back. However, his smile looked a bit strained.

"Ash, what's wrong?"

"Will you still marry me? Even though I got shot four times?" he asked softly.

"I . . ." Mary-Lynnette knew her voice would crack, so she nodded. But she said it anyways; "Of course I will."

Ash gave her the biggest smile he could manage and kissed her hand. "I love you, Mare."

"I love you, Ash." Her voice was thick and her eyes were still watery.

Mary-Lynnette kept on supporting Ash as he pushed and willed himself to get better. Then, that wonderful time came when the doctors decided that Ash is strong enough to move back to Oregon.

Thirteen months had passed when they reached Oregon. And by the time their second week of arrival came, their wedding was there.

Ash was strong enough to walk and stand as a handsome, proud yet humble groom—waiting for his bride to walk down the aisle. His Mary-Lynnette. Soon-to-be _Mrs. Redfern_. Oh the pride that was blooming in his chest.

Mary-Lynnette wore a white, strapless gown. It was very simple but very lovely and elegant at the same time. She walked down the aisle with her father, Mr. Carter. And she was so, so beautiful that Ash would've dropped his jaw if he wasn't the groom right now.

And he was _very happy_ to be her groom. Mary-Lynnette felt the same way about being his bride.

The vows finished and so did the ceremony. Now was the time for their kiss. A seal for their promises.

Ash pushed back her see-through veil and cupped her face, smiling at her before capturing her soft lips in a sweet kiss.

"I now pronounce you, husband and wife."

Claps. Applause. From all their friends and family. They pulled away as they slowly descended down the brief steps to go to the reception area. Everything was perfect. Everything was . . . happy. They fed each other a piece of cake from their wedding cake. Laughed with their friends and family.

And then came their first dance as newly-weds.

Mary-Lynnette bit her lip and glanced at Ash. She saw that he had a happy and determined look in his eyes. Slowly, he pulled her in the middle of the dance floor with a grin as the guests circled around them, giving them space for their first dance.

She knew well that Ash could barely move his left arm, so she smiled up at him, happy tears in her eyes as she tried to blink them away. "Here, give me your hand," she murmured as she took his left hand, placing it on her waist. She let her hand stay on her waist, on top of his left hand, and intertwined her left hand with his right hand.

They began to sway slowly, happy smiles on their faces.

The crowed was watching with delightful eyes, clapping and cheering and watching intently. Ash raised his arm and tried to twirl Mary-Lynnette, but Mary-Lynnette thought that he did that out of . . . well, randomness.

But then, she realized that she was supposed to twirl.

Mary-Lynnette laughed enjoyably. "I was supposed to twirl?"

Ash grinned boyishly and nodded. "Of course you were, sweetheart."

They laughed softly together, and the others—who were in hearing range of the couple's conversation—laughed with them.

"See," Mary-Lynnette whispered, tilting her head up to look at Ash's eyes, "you were able to dance with me, after all."

His eyes softened as he smiled again. "I love you. I love you, love you, love you."

Mary-Lynnette giggled, kissing him softly as he kissed back tenderly. "I love you, too."

Soon, their wedding was over and their lives as husband and wife began.

**. . .**

**End**

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:**__ I was pretty much crying as I wrote some of the scenes here. I cried when Ash told Mare that he was sorry because he won't be able to dance with her on their wedding. So, again, this is inspired and based on those two people—the newly-weds. ALL HUMAN, okay? And I don't own anything but some of the scenes and other lines . . . Okay, well, with that said . . . how was it? Did you cry like me? Because I (obviously) did! Please tell me what you guys thought about this. Because I was certainly touched. ^_^ I hope the guy gets better as time goes on! I wish I could've made this more detailed. But since I really don't know anything about their life . . . *shrugs*_

**P.S. **Please, please, _PLEASE_ check out the story Eve (a.k.a **BookVampire**) and I collabed on! The story's called "**Ski Resort**" and Eve and I had been planning really hard about it and we're also working super hard! If you're interested, the story is in Eve's/**BookVampire**'s profile. **So thank you, thank you, thank you for considering on viewing it/reviewing it/whatever-ing it!**

One more thing . . .

**Review**? :)


End file.
